Alice In Wonderland
by Tahti
Summary: Not!Jack. You will know when you read. The first and original installment of the series inspired by my best friend Luna Amara. So what happens when you find just the right dress to get his attention...?


_**A/N:** I'm finally posting it here, precautions be damned, because it's HIS birthday! :) No names are named, but this is NOT Jack, you will recognize him though... ;) I'd post on Fiction Press (and may move the Alice!Sue stories there as soon as I get approved, already got an account, so don't be surprised when they disappear from here in a few days) but this particular... celebration idea only struck me tonight and there's a two-day waiting period. Oh well. Enjoy while they last.  
_

_**Disclaimer:** NO offence meant, it's all flattery and as a fantasy scenario, should be considered a compliment. If the idea of exploring fantasy about not-Jack offends you, stop reading right now._

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The dress can be called anything from slutty to classy, depending on the intention of an onlooker.

Deep red satin hugs her hips and thighs snugly, the hem reaches her knees and the top is not particularly low-cut. But there is a high slit going almost to the underside of her buttocks and her back is completely bared, the outline plunging to the curve above her ass, delicate straps just barely curving around her shoulders.

She glances at her own reflection in one of the enormous mirrors in the hotel lobby. Almost not recognizing herself, almost ready to turn around and go change, aware of the looks she's attracting, aware of the nature of them.

Instead, she licks her lips and heads for the gallery, towards the gathering of the glitzy crowd.

There's one particular gaze she hopes will darken at the suggestion her dress entails.

The first time she saw him, adrenaline shot through her system like an electric impulse, but her body didn't betray her otherwise, not a muscle twitched. If anything, her posture became somewhat rigid, as she subconsciously straightened her back and concentrated on feigned indifference. It was at that exact moment that she stopped really paying attention to her colleague trying to get her engaged in some small talk, and she smiled politely. And kept throwing glances to behind her, across the room, at _him._

It was too hard not to look, but she was careful not to get caught. Briefly, she thinks how pathetic it was to feel all engrossed in staring at the man, but he was not just another man and she couldn't fathom by what spin of events she found herself in the same room with him. Maybe that was not even him.

But then he looked up in her direction as if sensing her gaze and for a moment it was like he anchored her with his smoldering irises, for a couple of seconds she couldn't avert her eyes, like a deer blinded by headlights.

Feeling heat creeping up her cheeks, she ducked her head but was unable not to look up again after a while, to find his eyes directed at her.

"Hey, what's there?" her colleague, Julia, eventually caught up with her distraction and turned around to see what got her attention.

"Ah, him!" Julia smiled knowingly. "He's friends with the owner of the gallery," she offered.

"Kinda hard not to stare," she shrugged, hoping to brush it off.

"Careful there, girl," Julia said. "He's got quite a reputation."

"I'm _not_ going there!"she hissed, the prudish part of her shocked that anyone could think otherwise. But she couldn't help the unwitting tingle in her lower belly at what it would mean, what it could mean. "I'm not like _that_!"

"No, of course. You're not." Julia mumbled apologetically.

The man took an unhurried sip of his whiskey and rested his shoulder on the wall, exchanging detached smiles with another guest. And she could tell, he _knew_; her eyes wandered to him as if drawn by a magnet, he saw it. But she kept her distance and did her best to pretend she wasn't looking, and that made _him_ look.

This is why she's here now, this is why she came back tonight. Why she's wearing this dress.

Right from the entrance, several men ogle her, with openly sly smirks as if they already picture themselves between her legs. She looks around discreetly, scanning the surroundings for one familiar face.

The sense of both relief and panic washes over her when she encounters it, telling her she doesn't have a fucking idea what she expects to happen, or no, there's not much use convincing herself so anymore. She has a very clear idea of what she wants from him and it scares her, scares her like an urge to reach for a stimulant scares an addict. She doesn't want to want it but it's beyond her control, and she knows how wretched she'll feel if her plan backfires.

Heart thumping in her chest, she makes her way to the bar, having to go closely near him. Her eyes are firmly trained on the space ahead, even if not really seeing much, so his reaction is lost on her, she hopes he noticed her at all.

_You're so stupid, Alice,_ she tells herself for a hundredth time, ordering a Margherita, ironically, and feeling the breeze from an open French window a little cool on her bare back.

The drink unfolds in warm fuzzy current inside her, and she works up the courage to turn around, and nearly gasps, because he's right behind her.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything and just holds her gaze with a shadow of a smile, his pupils dilated in the dim light. He's quick, she's got to give him that, having faultlessly sensed a willing prey. She knows, she stands out among the conservatively dressed snobbish women here, she knows no one's outfit screams '_do me'_ like hers, and she knew – she sees that now – that he'd pick on it, acting territorial if nothing else.

"You were here last night," she hears him speak, his tone somewhat mellow, calm.

She nods, returning the little smile and cocking her head. "I was."

He studies her wordlessly for a while longer and she chooses to remain silent, her thoughts racing, if she should acknowledge him somehow or not.

"You'd like to dance?" he asks abruptly, making her want to grin madly, but she just nods again and then a warm spasm jolts through her insides when his hand lands on the small of her back, just below the rim of her immodest dress. It's a brief touch, to motion her towards the dance floor, where several couples sway to the rhythm of a slow piano melody, but the spark ignites an avalanche of desires for it being multiplied and intensified.

He leads her to a faintly lit spot by the window where she can't make out the exact expression on his face, but it doesn't matter, because his hand comes back to the still tingling spot, and the other one takes hold of hers in a sure clasp.  
It feels even better than she could have imagined. His sturdy form somehow engulfs her, but it's not intimidating or patronizing. She feels alert and warm.

Steadily, he pulls her closer, until their bodies touch in the middle, her stomach pressed to his, his thigh maneuvering itself in between hers impudently. She doesn't trust herself to look up to his face as he leads the slow dance. What it would be like to have him lead her into oblivion while he pushed himself inside her?

Alice's grasp on his hand tightens and her reason gives up on reminding her how ridiculous the thoughts are.

"So what did you say your name was?" he asks, the words tickling her ear.

"I didn't," she mutters into his chest. "And it's Kathy," she lies. The fake identity making it that bit easier to follow through with the game she has set. "Yours?"

She looks up to him in time to see him chuckle.

"You can pick any that you like," he says, playing along, even though she tells herself there's no way he knows her real name.

"Your own is fine," she tells him, meeting his gaze defiantly, feeling his hand creep up a bit on her back, so his thumb is brushing against her bare skin there.

"Oh, so you know who I am?"

"I know who you are," she answers, not breaking their gaze, and wondering what the hell possessed her to act like this. Like she knows what she's doing.

"What are you doing here, _Kathy_?" he continues, his thumb stroking her spine gently and it's right then it hits her what is inevitable. Fully aware of her actions, Alice moves her hand over his strong shoulder testing the feel of it. Solid and flexing underneath the confines of his dress jacket. She can only imagine what a man with such a classically testosterone figure could do to her.

"Just… enjoying a gallery opening."

"You're not from here, right?" he continues lazily. "Europe?"

"Yeah," she agrees, but doesn't offer any more. "Europe."

"You're different than the women here. What do you do?"

"You sure wanna know a lot. For what it matters, I could be a plain prostitute."

"You're not a prostitute," he laughs sharply.

"How do you know?"

"Trust me, I know," he breathes into her temple, a warm gust of air nearly burning the delicate skin. She can smell the whiskey on his breath, and cigarettes. He'd taste bitter and smoky, the flavor of a man who doesn't deny himself the worldly pleasures.

"I like the dress though," he says, running his finger along the rim of it, deliberately keeping it off her flesh. "So? You gonna tell me who you are?"

"What does it matter? To you?"

"Consider it a personal quirk," he looks directly into her eyes, provocatively. Pulling her closer into himself, he bents his head and murmurs the rest into her ear, but without touching it.

"I like to know who I fuck."

It's her turn to huff out a laugh, partly nervous and partly aroused. A short, throaty laugh. Even though her knees waver underneath her and goose bumps form on the back of her neck.

"What makes you think that you're… _fucking_ me?" she dares, the expletive rolling off her mouth like she's tasting it.

He stills and smiles easily at her, his dark eyes narrowing a notch.

"Thanks for the dance," he says with a subtle bow, then brings her hand to his lips brushing them against the back of it.

In impeccable gentlemanly manner, he escorts her back to where they picked up from, and with a nod and this infuriatingly challenging smirk, he leaves her be.

"It was a pleasure, Kathy," and she watches him walk off, his distinctive tall silhouette moving gracefully among the crowd, and he's all she can see, other men suddenly looking small and docile when he passes them by.

She takes a sip of her drink as her mind undresses him involuntarily, and she wonders briefly if he fucks his wife the same way his whole presence implies about fucking other women, dominantly and confidently. If she knows all about it. Does it turn her on? Him?

The thought arouses her somehow and for one bold moment she lets it in, lets herself bask in a fantasy of being pinned down by him while the other woman watches. How wrong and how exciting it would be.

It takes another man's tentative advances for her to shake off the reverie and excuse herself to the lantern-lit terrace, fishing out a cigarette from her purse. It reaches her lips when a hand holding a lighter appears before her – _his_ hand, again.

Sucking on her cigarette, she nods her _thank you_ and eyes him curiously.

"You're always this… audacious?" she asks after a beat, when he doesn't look at the slightest uncomfortable standing there silently with her.

He lets out an amused laugh, looking sideways to some people passing by.

"When I think it's worth it, yeah."

"Is it worth it?" she teases back, feeling bolder.

"You tell me," he replies in a husky voice that makes her yearn for his breath on her ear when he speaks like that.

His eyes are like magnets to her and she becomes aware of the power he has over her, how much she longs for what he offers.

"C'mon Kathy, let me show you something," he says, his hand returning to the small of her back, now blatantly smoothing over her skin. Like a burning imprint, she thinks.

She ditches her cigarette and his arm curls around her waist and Alice leans into the strength of it as he guides her through the hotel  
garden, past thick sweet-smelling bushes, to a viewing bay which overlooks the entire downtown landscape, shimmering with city lights like sequined fabric.

It's secluded and almost completely dark, bathed in the afterglow of the colorful lanterns and a thought crosses her mind, a shadow of caution that she doesn't know him at all, that maybe she should be wary, but his arm around her feels strangely reassuring and the thrill of being so close to him intoxicates her brain, not without her permission.

They reach a railing where her hands take a rest, his own slithering idly beside them as he moves to stand behind her, but not touching her. Trapping her on the spot with his body.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he says quietly somewhere dangerously close to the nape of her neck.

She shivers and a low _yeah_ is all she can utter when his hands move surprisingly gently to cover hers as his thumbs draw light circles over the sensitive insides of her wrists.

"You know what now" he states more than asks and lowers his head so his lips finally brush her earlobe as he speaks.

"I'm gonna fuck you, Kathy." Her body responds on his own, in contort of her inner muscles and in pooling warmth between her legs.

"Hard, Kathy. So hard, that you can't walk," he whispers, pressing himself lightly to her from behind, just enough for her to feel his hard-on. "But you'll come back crawling to me, you'll beg me for more," he promises lustily.

This is insane, she thinks, but can't control her eyes shutting tight, her body arching back and the little sigh which escapes her mouth.

Shifting his weight, he rubs against her ass, teasing her, knowing oh so very well what he's doing.

"This is what you came here for," he scrapes her shoulder with his stubbly chin. "I know that look you gave me last night. I know it."  
Just how many women he has taken this way, she wonders and figures that it doesn't matter at all, that she doesn't care. It's her turn now, she's going to experience what it's like, what _he_'s like.

"I really like your dress, you know," he mutters, fingering the rim along her ribs, making her chuckle lightly.

"You just want to fuck the dress."

"May be some truth to it," he retorts, mirroring her smile, which she feels against her shoulder as his lips wander lazily up her neck, with no trace of hurry but with unmistakable purpose.

Suddenly, when she's just let herself relax and succumb to the unhurried pace, he thrusts against her hard, pinning her to the railing and making her moan. He's more than ready and in no mood to conceal it.

When his hands clasp over hers tightly, they are nowhere near gentle this time, and he repeats the forceful movement, driving her into the steel bars until they dig into her belly.

"You like that? You like it like this?" his whisper is dark and dripping with lust. She has never been an object of such unadulterated primal lust.

"Yes…" she breathes out, her vision already blurred and the anticipation becoming impossible to take.

"When I saw you tonight, when I saw you walk in wearing _this_, I knew what I wanted," speaks, moving his head to the other side of hers, his teeth grazing her neck. "Did you know what you wanted, Kathy?"

"Ye-es…! Oh god!" her admission dissolves into a moan when he anchors her in place with his hips and his large hands connect with her bare back to slide swiftly underneath the outer edges of the dress and over her breasts, cupping them, kneading them with just the right amount of pressure.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna give you the ride of your life, baby."

For a while, he plays with her nipples, rubbing them, pinching between his fingers and all she can do is wriggle helplessly and whimper, her head falling back to his shoulder and her buttocks seeking more contact with his erection.

"Fuck, Kathy, I really want a look at your tits, but I'm liking this little slutty attire _way_ too much."

The brink of her mind is still aware they're in a public place where anyone can walk in on them, but this is her last concern, she can't even think of embarrassment and she's sure she'll die if she doesn't feel more of him, all over her body, if he doesn't soothe the aching need between her legs.

She feels the hot moisture literally dripping out of her, coming out in waves synchronized with his actions and when he shifts one of his hands out of her dress and down to her center where he presses through the fabric, she's sure it'll soak through, and it does.

Feeling it, he lets out a groan into her ear and it goes straight to where his skilled fingers work her.

"That's it, girl. Get ready for me."

"I am," she moans breathlessly, moving one arm behind an around his neck, pulling his mouth to her pulse point where he sucks roughly, while she's smoothing her fingers over the ticklish texture of his short hair. "Do it. Do me already."

His breath quickens a little, and he grabs handfuls of the satin and pulls it up harshly, high enough for the slit at the back to allow him access where he needs it. He moves the flaps open and then she realizes she has dumbly put tights on.

"Fuck," he bites out an annoyed groan. "You better not be attached to these much."

What he does next should shock her but instead amplifies her arousal; he tears the delicate layer open and out of the way, and the sound of it ripping sends another jolt of desire through her body. He's growing impatient to have her.

All Alice can do, is brace herself on her outstretched arms and trembling legs, which she instinctively opens wider when one of his hands returns to the front of her dress to press against her and the other slides down over her scantily clad buttocks, down in between them and underneath her thong, until his fingers ease into her wet folds, parting them, teasing her opening, before eventually slipping inside her.

She's trying so hard to keep quiet, but what he's doing to her, the way he has clipped her between his hands is making her need to make all sorts of obscene noises, the ones she has never thought she had the nerve to make. Now, it's not a choice, it's an agonizing, excruciating _need_.

As if sensing it, he presses tighter, rubs harder, finally bringing out the shriek out of her, and then he stops.

"Quiet," he says imperiously. "Keep quiet, or I'll stop."

"Don't stop," she practically begs, nodding furiously and biting her lip when he starts all over again, hitting all the right spots without a miss, with an expertise of someone who has either taken anatomy classes or has a lot of experience.

He pumps her with a perfectly measured rhythm and she feels herself nearing the brink, amazed that it's even possible, but right then both of his hands are suddenly gone, making her let out a surprised and disappointed _oh._ She looks over her shoulder and sees him opening his belt buckle with a soft _click_ and it's the most erotic thing she has ever seen.

"_I_ decide when you come," he says simply, his face barely visible in the shadow, but she can make out the set shadowed jaw and the dark shape of his eyes and he looks almost inhuman to her, like a creature of wilderness that's gonna devour her with no twinge of conscience.

It makes her want him that much more.

She watches, as he pulls the zipper down undoing his dress pants and quickly pulling himself out. Her lips water at the sight of his commanding cock, huge and hard and flushed; she's has never been with a man of this size and she wants to touch him, feel it in her hands. Reaching around she tries, but he stops her.

"Not now. Hand back where it was."

And she obliges, like with everything he demands of her.

Slowly, he steps back into position, but not quite there, just teasing her with his tip and she takes quick shallow breaths at how hot it is, how slick.

Her whole body arches instinctively, waiting for him to enter, but he once again retrieves, chuckling under his breath.

"You want it, huh."

"God, yes!"

"You're like a cat in heat," he tells her lustfully, grabbing her hip and stilling her, and she looks around again, to see him open a foil wrapper and sliding a condom onto his impressive manhood.

"Always prepared?" she arches her eyebrow.

But he doesn't answer her, only moves her thong to the side and slides himself into her folds, rubbing for a moment to cover his cock with her juices and then pushes up into her, slowly, in little strokes up and up, stretching her, until he's fully embedded in her body.

With a low grunt, he rests his face in the crook of her neck and breaths into it, burning her skin. He's completely still those first few seconds when her body adjusts to the size of him; she has never thought it possible to accommodate so much of a man inside her, but the way he does it, and how wet she is…!

"Ever been filled this tight before?"

His voice is as hoarse as his cheek now, against her back and the heat of his body swallows her whole being up.

"It's not uncomfortable, is it?" he asks unexpectedly, making her realize how crucial to his pleasure her own is. Which she finds sort of touching, given the circumstances.

"Fuck, no."

Then her world really explodes.

He withdraws, and pushes back with full force, hitting spots, hitting places she didn't even know existed within her, sending himself so deep in that her uterus contracts deliciously and her breath gets caught down her throat, her mouth wide open in a silent scream.

He does it again, and again, and she finally exhales loudly, unsure if she just came already, but every forceful thrust brings the sensation back, only more powerful.

"You ever had a g-spot orgasm, Kathy?" he asks, as if expecting she'd be able to talk now, while he's thrusting up so hard she can hardly stand.

She shakes her head and feels his wet tongue flatten out on her spine, licking up the hollow all the way to her hairline.

"I'm gonna give you one," he breaths into the wet skin.

His grip firm on her hips, he drives into her harder and harder, pulling out almost completely and coming back with an audible smack of his body against hers, the wetness seeping out of her making it sound like laps. Anyone passing by would hear, and combined with their heavy breathing, it'd be only too obvious, but what she's feeling, how he's making her feel, as if she's reduced to this carnal being oblivious to any supposed civilization, is too good to even contemplate giving up on.

"Harder – " she moans as quiet as she can, even though he's already fucking her wildly, almost violently, as she succumbs to the moment. The moment in which she's no more than a female and he's simply a male in this primal mating.

"You like it hard, Kathy? You like it rough?"

"Take me, fuck me…" she continues mindlessly, the words coming out of her mouth unwittingly, everything but the reminder of what they're doing wiped out of her mind.

"Oh, I'm fucking you alright, baby. You're gonna remember this," he grunts.

If it's even possible, he plunges deeper yet, causing her to squirm in his hold, his hard dick grazing a spot inside her that makes her want to burst, the pleasure almost too much to take and she suddenly feels it, something uncoiling slowly within, all her insides on fire.

"You feel that?" he whispers. "Feel me there?"

"Yeah! Oh god, oh fuck, OH _yes_!" she exclaims, as a wonderful warm wave overcomes her body, one after another, with each thrust, and she doesn't want it to stop and it seems like it won't, her head spinning and her heart racing so fast like her blood is going to boil.

Not aware that she's screaming, she feels a hand clamp over her mouth and she sinks her teeth into it, but he doesn't loosen the hold.

Abruptly, his movements stop, and he presses her tighter to the railing, one arm gathering her into his chest. He's still hard as ever within her and she doesn't understand, struggling to come back down from her high.

"Shh, there are people coming," he whispers into her ear and very slowly eases his hand down from her mouth.

She slacks back into him, grateful for the grip, not trusting her own legs to support her.

"I -… I just…"

"Shh, I know." She can just picture the self-confident smirk on his face. "Just be quiet for a second."

Slowly, she regains some focus and the buzz around her becomes human, some girly giggling and some animated male voices. The volume is steadily raising and Alice comprehends the people are nearing them.

The way he's wrapped tightly around her leaves no doubt about their actions, but for some reason she doesn't find it discomforting, or off-putting. No, all at once she almost wishes they would _see_. That they would watch him take her.

Ever so slightly, she bucks her hips up against him and is rewarded with a strained sigh. Taking advantage of her temporary upper hand, she repeats it, and to her satisfaction, he does resume his thrusting, only as tiny, rocking movements now.

"You'll pay for this," he whispers into her hair.

The voices finally subside, apparently skewing to a different path, and her breathing finally slows down a notch. He pulls out of her, making her frown. Hands gripping her arms, he turns her around to face him. There's no time to study his face, because he lifts her off the ground effortlessly, sitting her on the railing.

She gasps, eyes wide, in full acknowledgement of the precipice behind her.

"No. No, just put me down."

"Trust me," he says.

"Why would I? I don't know you."

"Just do."

His arms encircle her firmly and she can feel their strength as she apprehensively leans back against them.

And then he kisses her, for the first time, a hard, greedy open mouthed kiss which leaves no room for resistance as he shoves his tongue past her lips and then sucks on her own. It's strangely sensual, the intrusion so aggressive and making her dizzy all over again.

He tastes like warm strong liquor and it has nothing to do with the alcohol either of them consumed. She's drinking him, his saliva and the velvety flesh of his mouth. He seems to swallow her whole, and as their tongues entwine, she feels him push his cock back into her, nothing like the calculated manner of his initial penetration. He pushes hard now, invading her body like a conqueror claiming his land, thrusting all the way up and setting up a fierce rhythm until she gasps and pants into his mouth.

Suddenly, his fingers creep up to the straps of her dress, tugging them down.

"Show them to me. Give me your titties, Kathy" he urges, and she wriggles the front of her dress down.

He smiles, eyeing her hungrily and then bends her back enough for him to capture one nipple in his mouth. He nibbles and sucks and bites the fevered flesh gently and then not so gently, and Alice is unable to do anything but let herself come along on the ride as a fresh wave of pleasure comes flooding her.

But she wants to touch him too, wants to feel his hot skin, his taut muscles unrestrained by the clothing, so she tears on his tie, undoing it with shaky fingers, then on the buttons of his black dress shirt finally having it open to grant her access to his sculpted chest, the hairs there tickling her palms as they roam everywhere they can reach, over his nipples and tight abdomen, down his sides, down into his pants, to clutch his buttocks underneath his boxers, urging him deeper, harder inside her.

They're pressed so tight together, bodies colliding against one another, and each movement, each stroke teases her almost oversensitive clit just right, and it's not long before she feels climbing up again.

"Just like this, just there – fuck me hard - !" she huffs out, before he pulls her hips even closer into him and takes her mouth into his again, fucking it with his tongue now, like his cock is ramming into her.  
It's frantic and it's wild and she has never been fucked like this. She forgets all about the cliff and gives in to him completely, and in to the faith that his arms will break her fall.

"Those people are coming back," he warns, but she can only hear her own blood pulsing in her ears, and his breath matching the frenzied rate of her heartbeats.

"I don't care," she pants.

"We'll have to stop," he says, but _god no!_ he doesn't.

"No, please, no - !" she's so close, a powerful orgasm only a few seconds away. "Not now, I have to -, I need to -, you need to – "

Her words seem to turn him on and thank god he's nowhere near stopping, instead picks up his pace, thrusting in faster, smaller, but equally hard strokes.

"Say it, Kathy. Say what you need me to do."

"Make me come, please, make me come," she's past any worry how desperate she sounds, and he obviously enjoys making her beg for it.

"You greedy minx," he says, clamping his teeth over her collarbone and then dipping his tongue into the hollow.

The fear of getting caught with him like this accelerates her hips' movements, she can't stop, there's not a force on Earth that would make her stop, and so it's happening, three more strokes and she's there, falling into her own abyss, outside of the world, where she only sees blinding white light, the tension leaving her body in pulsing surges, and it goes on and on, her vagina clutching him in place out of its own volition, and he keeps the rhythm, which makes it feel like she'll never come down, each movement like a new climax.

When she finally opens her eyes, he's staring intently into hers and breaks into a satisfied smile of a man who has just taken a woman's breath away.

"So is it worth it, Kathy?"

She's not even tired, just feels so thoroughly _good_.

"It is," she agrees, and he resumes his focused moves.

"Fuck, it's good in you there," he whispers into her mouth.

"Hot and tight and so wet for me," he rasps his cheek against her throat, as if he knows the scratchy texture is bliss to her delicate skin.

"But you have a pretty little mouth, Kathy," he murmurs, and she knows what he wants.

Easing out of her, he lowers her back to the ground.

He rips the condom off and her hand flings to touch him, feel that hot satin which is so much smoother and glorious than her dress could ever be.

"Suck me off," he demands, no, _orders_, and she finds herself complying shamelessly, dropping to her knees, undoubtedly tearing her tights over the gravel surface, but what difference does it make now.

Right before her face, his cock seems even more impressive, the skin tight and glistening over it, the throbbing veins swollen, the head purple and seeping. She licks her lips unbelieving that the sheer sight of it makes her want him again, revving up her spent body in a flash.

There's no way she could take all of him in, but she closes her mouth over the tip, swirling her tongue around it and releasing it with a suckle. She does it again, adding her hand to grip the length of him and hears him suck in a breath; he likes that.

He doesn't move when she takes him a little deeper in, tasting the pungent clear liquid of his pre-cum, stroking him in the opposite direction to her busy mouth, twisting her wrist slightly, but then his hand comes up to close over hers, tightening her grip, needing it harder.

She's swallowing him as far as she can, occasionally breaking the pattern to lick up the underside of his cock and flutter her tongue over just his tip, teasing the tiny slot there, then she comes back with a stronger suck.

Without thinking, her other hand dives into the opening of his pants to cup his balls, the soft skin yielding to her fingers as she fondles it gently.

He seems to be enjoying it, his breath coming out in quick shallow spurts, his fingers tangling in her hair and the low groaning sounds he makes telling her he's close.

And he must be, hips now jerking involuntarily in small thrusts into her mouth, sending him so deep, she has to blink away moisture in her eyes.

"C'mon, you can do better than this," he breaths, taking hold of her head and holding her in place while his cock pokes at the back of her throat.

She has to focus on relaxing her muscles, but wants to please him so desperately, wants to give him the best she can, wants to watch him lose himself in the ecstasy he just gave her.

So she takes most of him in, and he's fucking her mouth now, with little aid on her side, she doesn't even get to suck him anymore.

Steadying herself against his muscular thighs, she lets it happen, oddly aroused by what he's doing, how she's a mere tool for him to use. There's more, her hands, on their on accord, roam over his ass and legs, as if they want to ensure he doesn't back off.

Still, even now he's controlled enough not to push so far he'd gag her and while he's clearly nearing the edge, she can tell the measured strokes are meant to delay it, to make this last longer.

She wants to taste him and lick him clean but at the same time worries she'd choke if he comes so deep in her mouth. But just as he's about to, and she feels his cock twinge, he pulls out and clasps his own hand around his shaft, pumping it hard once, twice, and then with a guttural growl he comes, his seed shooting out in hot sticky ribbons, landing on her still parted lips, on her cheeks and running slowly down her neck and chest.

Overwhelmed by fascination, she watches his handsome face contorted as if in pain, eyes tightly shut and his head fallen backwards, his breathing harsh, convulsive, while he keeps moving his hand until nothing is left and she's covered in his cum.

Eventually, he stops, exhaustion slumping his posture slightly and his head lowers, but he keeps his eyes closed for a long moment and just stands still, catching his breath.

As if paralyzed, she's not even aware that she's holding her own breath, not until he looks at her, eyes hooded and sated, and gives her a small smile.

He reaches out and running his finger slowly over her chin, he gathers up his own release and puts it in her mouth. It's a strong tangy taste of sex, she thinks, closing her eyes in inexplicable delight, as he continues cleaning her up and feeding her himself.

Feeling a tug on her arms, she realizes she's being pulled up to her feet, and her joints are numb, but she can only feel his lips as they press into hers, the kiss lacking previous haste and frenzy, but nonetheless sensual and erotic.

"How many women have you fucked like this before?" she mutters through her haze.

He chuckles.

"Too many."

"Here?"

"None," he smiles, and she has no idea if he's telling the truth.

She's a complete rag doll as she allows him to pull the straps of her dress back up her arms and straighten the fabric over her body. He looks her over and to her surprise, pulls up her skirt and crouches in front of her, to peel off the shattered remnants of her tights down her legs.

Methodically, he lifts each of her feet out of its shoe and takes the garment off, then his fingers run slowly up the back of her thighs and suddenly his face is level with her crotch.

Taken aback, Alice gasps feeling him nuzzle her through her panties and nibble gently on her clit, sniffing on her like an animal.

"Next time," he looks up to her wide eyes with a seductive grin.

The words echo through her mind excitedly.

_Next time_.


End file.
